Stand, Speak, Listen, Learn
by Elfpen
Summary: Tired of living under his father's shadow, when Balin Emrys finds a chance to prove his worth outside of Merlin's legacy, he jumps at it. But when he lands in over his head and gets caught up with opposition he can't hope to face, he finds himself on his own to determine not only his own fate, but the fate of the world he was trying to escape. Sequel to 'A Second Chance'.
1. Balin Emrys

**A/N:** I actually can't believe I'm writing this. I tend to shy away from OCs, even though I have a million of them in my own personal headcanon, I don't like impressing them upon the masses. But for whatever reason, I actually got plot idea for this particular character that I think is viable enough to write a full-length story for. So, even though it may be extremely weird for Merlin to have a son, and I can only pray you'll like my portrayal of such, please enjoy.

* * *

"Thank God he doesn't have your ears."

It was the first thing his wife said to him after their son was born. Merlin's ears were consistently his only physical feature that Freya felt the need to pick on. Normally, such a jibe would have prompted an obligatory glare or retort, but at that moment, with a squirming bundle of baby in his arms and an exhausted but happy wife in the bed to his side, Merlin could only laugh and agree with her.

"It'll be _Balin_ Emrys, then. I suppose your mother was right about you all along." Merlin rocked the tiny body gently, and Freya smiled proudly.

Balin opened his big brown eyes for the first time, and they landed on his father. For Merlin, that first glance was the most wonderful and terrifying feeling he'd ever experienced. In that moment, realized that, for better or worse, his life would never be the same again. He had a son.

* * *

The first few months were set somewhere between bliss and hell for the new parents. They were both kept up at all hours by Balin, who'd they'd come to dub 'The Sleepless Wonder' and his rather messed-up idea of appropriate crying hours. Still, the torture was balanced out by the moments when he _did _sleep, the softness of his cuddles, and the time when his parents discovered his laugh for the first time. In addition to his own rare good moods, showers of affection and congratulations came in from all corners of the Castle, particularly from the royal family.

"I'm afraid he's handsomer than you, Merlin," Arthur had said upon seeing Balin for the first time. "Though I'll grant you, that doesn't take much."

The queen was more civil about her gratitude and, being a young mother herself, was only too sympathetic with Freya as she adjusted to motherhood. The two could often be seen together, with or without their children, and Gwen was often at the Emrys' tower to assist with the demanding newcomer to their family. More than Arthur's roundabout way of encouraging the two, Guinevere was an angel in her own right for all she did for Merlin and Freya in the first months of the son's life.

With her help, the whirlwind of Balin's first year went by in the fastest, slowest twelve months of Merlin's life, and suddenly, the castle was getting ready to celebrate Balin's first birthday.

* * *

They'd planned a small celebration, but to the embarrassment and flattery of both Merlin and Freya, everyone else in the castle made sure that Balin's first birthday celebration was large enough to match the excitement of the first birthday of Raina, the young princess, who had recently turned three. Granted, none of his other birthdays would merit such attention, but the very first year in existence was something to celebrate and, everyone thought, the first year of child of such an influential family deserved something special.

The hall was filled with family and friends, old and new. Still, it wasn't truly a crowded party, until Aithusa showed up and expertly squeezed himself in through two tall side doors from the courtyard. Merlin was undaunted and welcomed him warmly, and Aithusa was eager to see how much Balin had grown.

Although hardly bigger than when he'd last visited Camelot, Aithusa looked positively monstrous as he bent his neck over to peer down at the baby in question. Freya held her son hesitantly, unsure if Aithusa would frighten him or not. Balin didn't budge, but looked up at Aithusa's long ivory snout with the kind of wonder that only babies can manage, and reached out a pudgy hand to touch the dragon's lip. Merlin thought the moment felt nigh sacred, watching one of the world's most vulnerable creatures reach out and connect with one of the world's most powerful. Aithusa smiled and blew ever so lightly on the baby. Balin paused, then let out a giggle.

"I was afraid he'd be frightened," Freya admitted to the dragon. Aithusa smiled at her.

"Of course not, mother," He'd taken to using the endearment for Freya in private company after her marriage to Merlin, "he knows family when he sees it." He looked back down at Balin, still smiling. "Happy birthday, little brother."

Perhaps for other families, having a dragon refer to their members as blood relative was offensive. But they were no ordinary family. Merlin would never tell Aithusa, but the moment touched him deeply.

The evening carried on quietly but happily, with food and drink and story-telling amongst friends. As it drew near dark, Balin fell fast asleep on the lap of his grandmother, Hunith, who'd come in from Ealdor for the occasion. She handled him with expert ease and did a good job of keeping him calm and asleep. Eventually, the time came for gift giving. Most were given with more consideration to the parents than Balin himself, but Gwen had the foresight to give the family a well-built bed, for when the boy grew older, and Gwaine (to Freya's alarm) presented them with a finely made longsword in the promise that when Balin was old enough, he'd teach him how to handle it well. At the very end of the procession of gifts was Aithusa, and as he stepped up to address the parents, the hall quieted. Suddenly, Merlin got the feeling that he and his wife were the only ones in the room who didn' t know what was about to happen. The dragon cleared his throat.

"I cannot say how happy I am that the two of you have had the blessing of this child, Merlin, and Freya. You know that I consider you both as family, and will do no less for your son." He smiled at them, and they nodded. "Of course, it is not merely friendship that binds us; The only reason I can consider you family, indeed the only reason I am here at all, is because Merlin is not only my friend, but my Dragonlord, the same who called me into this world. Ties like that must not be ignored, even if Merlin himself seems to forget that he is first my Lord, not my father." This earned a light chuckle from the audience, but Aithusa only smiled and continued.

"I am sad to say that little remains of the culture of my ancestors, but from Kilgarrah, who remembers the old ways, I have learned of the times when dragons and dragonlords thrived, and wish to revive some of their old traditions in the hope of re-establishing that which has been lost for so long.

"The dragons owe everything to their lords. Without them, no dragon could be born, and we would be lost to the world of men, unable to partake in the friendship we now share. And so, just as it is a dragonlord's responsibility to bring dragons into the world, so the dragons wished to honor their lords and their families. In the days of old, it was tradition that, should a dragonlord have a child, on the first anniversary of the child's birth, a dragon, close in relation to the lord, would voluntarily bind him or herself with the child, as a symbol of familial ties that dragons and dragonlord share." Aithusa had the humor to smile before he added, "Seeing as I am one of one two dragons available for the position, and Kilgarrah is leagues and leagues away, I suppose I am obligated to volunteer." He sobered, and had a look of pure sincerity when he looked to Merlin and Freya and said,

"But I assure you, while this is a duty I feel obligatory, I take it as a pure honor. So, should it please you both, I will gladly dedicate myself to your son as his protector and companion, however old he grows, in the promise that I will look after him and guard him as my kin, my own brother."

The room remained silent, and Freya and Merlin sat silently, frozen in gratitude and shocked at the gravity of Aithusa's promise. Even Hunith, who'd known it was coming, looked deeply affected by all that his admission amounted to. Breaking the stillness, Elyan moved forward from his seat and looked to Aithusa for a cue. The dragon nodded at the knight.

"As a token of that promise, I would like to give you this amulet, made especially for Balin. So long as he wears it, he and I will be linked. It is enchanted in such a way to keep he and I aware of the other's presence. Should trouble arise, I would be able to find him regardless of how far away he may be. I must thank Sir Elyan for helping me craft it."

Smiling, Elyan stepped forward and gave his friends the amulet. Freya tried to thank him enough, and he only smiled and backed away with a 'it's nothing, my lady'. Merlin took the object and studied it. Fitted in an intricately crafted ring of silver (Elyan's smithing, he was sure) was a pearly white disk, perfectly circular, an image carved on either side that resembled a dragon. Dumbstruck, Merlin looked up at his longtime friend and tried to comprehend the gift. Aithusa only smiled back. After a moment's hesitation, Merlin realized that the room was waiting for a response. He glanced at Freya and said,

"Thank you, Aithusa," He said, with all the feeling he felt. "Of course we will accept."

Light applause followed, and as chatter continued to the end of the celebration, Aithusa came up to speak with Merlin.

"Aithusa," the warlock breathed, "you really don't have to do this."

"Well," the dragon tried to downplay it all, "if were we living in the old days, I would."

"But we aren't." Merlin told him.

"True. So I suppose I don't have to. But I _want_ to, father." They shared a look, and Merlin nodded eventually, then looked down at the amulet he still held. "What is this?" He asked, indicating the white center. Aithusa looked sheepish, if were a possible for a dragon to do so.

"Ah. Well, you see, another part of tradition." He moved his foreleg slightly so Merlin could get a better look at his chest. On the right side, right above where his heart was, there was a gap in his armor where one of his white scales had been removed. "It'll grow back, of course. A small sacrifice." Merlin could only gape between Aithusa and the pendant.

"Aithusa…" He shook his head in disbelief, and looked up again to the dragon, a light laugh on his lips. "You are full of surprises, my friend. _Thank you._" Carefully, Merlin stepped forward to hug the dragon around the neck. Aithusa pressed his chin against Merlin's back to return the hug. In so doing, he could see Freya, who mouthed 'thank you' as well. He smiled at her.

After they drew apart, Merlin went over to where his mother sat with his son and showed her the pendant. Taking up his son in his arms, Merlin nestled the amulet amongst Balin's blanket wrappings, and the baby shortly had the edge wrapped in his sleeping hand.

Aithusa smiled at the child, but something in the back of his mind buzzed. Dragons were apt for prophecy, he knew, and occasionally he experienced prescient hunches and feelings about things. He'd gotten the idea to bind himself to Merlin's son some time ago. He'd chalked it up to wanting to reinstate the old traditions between dragons and dragonlords, but the real reason was something he didn't think wise to tell Balin's parents: Balin would _need _protection.

Aithusa didn't have a definite reason behind his worry, but something in the draconic, foreseeing part of his mind told him that this tiny, dark-haired bundle of a human would one day grow up into a young man, and that young man would be nothing but trouble – to others _and_ himself. He would need protection, companionship, and guidance. Aithusa was only doing what he felt necessary to make sure Balin saw it through safely to his next birthday, and the next after that.

After all, what were big brothers for?


	2. Growing Up

As Balin grew older, there was some anticipation that hovered around the question of whether or not he would inherit his father's magic. Because Freya was not born with magic, it was a reasonable possibility that Balin might not possess it, either. Whereas Merlin displayed signs of his magic long before he could talk or walk, his son passed both milemarkers without the slightest hint of magic, and there was some disappointment for the fact among Camelot's magicians. Merlin paid them no heed, and told Arthur, when the king mentioned the subject, that he hadn't even considered whether Balin might have magic or not. He would love him just the same. The tension around the young Emrys died somewhat at Merlin's passive nature about the whole thing, until no one thought twice about Balin's non-magical nature.

Until one day.

It'd been a lovely spring day in Balin's fifth year, and after a long winter cooped up with a rambunctious five-year-old, Merlin and Freya were all too eager to find a quiet afternoon to get away from the castle and their energetic son. Merlin's teenaged apprentice, Ilenna, was left to babysitting duty, which had become a default position for her since her apprenticeship to Merlin.

It'd been a relatively mundane evening with the boy. He was as comfortable with Ilenna as much as his own family, and played happily on the floor with his toys while Ilenna poured over an old text that Merlin had assigned to her. Occasionally, she'd look up to make sure Balin hadn't destroyed, climbed on, or defaced any of his parent's belongings, but He seemed remarkably docile that evening. Eventually, Ilenna let herself become consumed in her studies. She didn't look up again until sudden, delighted laughter met her ears. It was Balin, and when she looked up, he wasn't on his spot on the floor. Come to think of it, he wasn't anywhere in sight. She panicked.

"Balin?" She called, standing up suddenly from the desk. Laughter rang up to her from downstairs, and something crashed.

"Balin!" She cried, somewhere between anger and panic. Her feet pounded a rhythm on the stairs as she mumbled along, "Merlin will kill me, Merlin will kill me, Merlin will-" She stopped a few steps from the bottom when she spotted it.

Hovering in a strange dance, toys, beakers, and books floated unassisted in mid-air just beneath the ceiling. Beneath them, Balin spun around, head thrown back, mouth agape in a huge grin, squealing with delight at his animate creation. After overcoming her shock, Ilenna called his name. He turned, and his levitation act shattered, all of the objects clattering to the floor at once. It didn't happen quickly enough, however, for Ilenna to miss that unmistakable glow of magic in his eyes. She stared.

"Dia cabhrú liom," She muttered in the language of her homeland, and made the way fully down stairs. She threw the door open and jogged out. "Merlin!" She called, hoping he was back by then. "Merlin! Balin's done magic!" Despite what might have been an occasion deserving of joy, she didn't sound particularly excited.

Balin stared after her with a befuddled expression on his face. He wasn't sure why she seemed so surprised.

From then on, Merlin made it a priority to school his son in the ways of magic and impress upon him the importance of controlling it. Although Merlin remembered looking upon his own powers with something like fear when he was young, Balin saw the whole thing as a game, and a perfect way to smash things around for fun. Thankfully, as he grew, Balin respected his father enough to heed his lessons, and although he was quickly becoming Camelot's resident troublemaker, was incredibly intelligent and talented when it came to magic.

It was hard to predict what aspects of study Balin would pick up and which ones he wouldn't. Watching him grow, Merlin was positive that Balin could master whatever skills in magic he wanted to. Magic was instinctual for Balin as much as it was for Merlin, and magic aside, the boy was frighteningly clever. Still, for whatever reason, there were certain subjects that the boy simply didn't care to try very hard at. Enchantments, for example, that solidified shields and fixed broken armor were an utter bore for Balin, while other, more obscure subjects, such as navigation spells or memory spells, were something that he buried himself in with a devotion to study that rivaled both Merlin and Ilenna.

As he approached his teens, it was becoming more and more clear to everyone that Balin, while he was the spitting image of his father, (minus the ears and blue eyes) he was a far cry from the laid-back, calm Court Sorcerer that Camelot had grown to love.

He was constantly getting in and out of scrapes just for the thrill of it, a habit that pushed Merlin's buttons in a way he couldn't deny. By the age of eleven, Balin had gotten his first injury that promised a lasting scar – a scrape on the corner of his eyebrow from another boy's fist. Gaius had treated him for more than one black eye, and he'd developed a thief's sense of direction and lightfootedness. When he turned twelve and hit his first significant growth spurt, Gwaine made good on his promise and began to train him in swordplay. Although Merlin frequently protested against it, and Gwaine understood his friend's misgivings, Balin's demand of the training and the sheer relentless talent he exhibited for the sport was enough to drown out any of Merlin's worried excuses against it. He grew quickly to become just as skilled a swordsman as Camelot's younger knights, with a light and agile flair that set him apart as a particularly tricky opponent. Mixed with his magic, his cleverness, his lust for thrill, and the undisguised stubbornness that pushed him to excel in whatever he chose made him nigh uncontrollable, particularly as he grew towards becoming a man.

He was mischief personified, and his father knew it. Merlin knew it well enough, in fact, that beginning in Balin's fourteenth year, an angry furrow of worry engrained itself permanently between Merlin's eyebrows. Merlin tried to reign his son in, tried to restrain his uncontrollable nature. Balin hated it. He didn't hate his father, though – not at first. But slowly, as he grew older, and Merlin continued to push him back more and more, the tension between father and son grew and grew. It was impossible to hide, and no one, not even Freya, seemed to be able to stop it. Balin's head was in one world, Merlin's was in another. Father and son, both so very much alike and so infinitely different, couldn't see eye to eye on practically anything. It would only be a matter of time before something – someone – snapped.

* * *

**A/N: **Super short, I know. Sorry about that, I can't really remember the last time I published a chapter so short. Still, I wasn't sure what to add on to this. It covers a lot of ground and gives a decent premise to what comes next. Hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter up soon.

By the way, Ilenna, although I haven't explained this in any previous fics, is from a land somewhat reminiscent of Scotland, (with my own creative licensing, of course) and the language used above is Gaelic. Unfortunately, I could only get my hands on an Irish Gaelic translator, so it's not entirely genuine, but I digress. This is fanfiction – why do I care? The basic translation of what she said is: "God help me."


End file.
